Sharing the Warmth

I was looking through an LL Bean catalog tonight, looking at all the cozy warm clothes. You know, turtlenecks, flannel shirts, fur-lined moccasins, long underwear. All the while feeling a little smug, dressed in shorts, a t-shirt and flip flops, with all the doors and windows open. I mean, I know some people love winter and cold, but I bet a lot of people would rather be here in this balmy 70-ish evening with a slight breeze ruffling the vertical blinds. Or at least will feel like that by February.

Ok, I’ll admit that there is something familiar and invigorating about cold nights where your breath hangs in the air, frozen ice crystals suspended momentarily under a canopy of stars. And the beauty of a fresh blanket of snow reflecting the full moon glow, transmuting the deepest night into a subtle, soft world of stillness and shadow. Those are the moments that we forget the drudgery of putting on 6 layers of sweaters and jackets, 3 pairs of sox and fur-lined boots, mittens and a hat so that we can go outside to dig out our cars or the driveway, make our way down snow-covered roads to go about the daily business of living during those 3 or 4 months when one is never warm.

I dealt with it my whole life. From Natick, Massachusetts to Clinton, Iowa to East Hampton, Connecticut. It was a simple fact of life.

Until it didn’t have to be. But that’s a story I’ve told many times here. I just wanted to share a bit of that warmth with you all, by posting some pictures and a video from a cruise on our finally running-almost-right boat last night, at the end of which we anchored in the bay and watched the sunset and shared a good bottle of wine. It was a really beautiful sunset, as they usually are down here. I hope you all enjoy them.